Page 63 of Essence of the Throne

The words hit my stomach hard, flipping the organ several times, but I keep my face impassive. “I do not have feelings for the prince.”

“Lie to yourself if you want.” His arms cross and he appears pleased with himself. “I see the way you look at him, even when you think there’s nothing but hate in your eyes. How your shoulders relax when you're near him. The way you step between him and any perceived threat.”

“That’s called protecting an asset,” I snap. “He’s useful to me alive.”

“Is that what you tell yourself?” He shakes his head. “You’re in love with him, Ariella. And it’s only going to get him killed. This is no longer a game—his own father promised to have Caspian’s head if he does not rid himself of you.”

Simmering rage hangs in the air between us. I want to deny everything he just said, though he’s right. But why the fuck does it matter if the king will be dead before he can even touch the prince?

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I manage, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Don’t I?” He moves to the door, pausing with his hand outstretched toward the handle. “Just think about what I said, wraith. He doesn’t deserve to die for the likes of you.”

The door closes behind him with a soft click, leaving me alone with thoughts I’ve been trying desperately to avoid. Every bit of fight has fled my body, a sensation I never wanted to experience again. It’s too vulnerable.

You’re in love with him. The mere possibility terrifies me more than anything the king could do.

Love is weakness. Love is vulnerability. Love is what got my parents killed, what got Isaiah killed. I can’t afford to love anyone, least of all the son of the man I’ve sworn to destroy.

But Gavriel’s words flit through my mind, impossible to ignore. Do I look at Caspian when I think no one’s watching? The instinctive need to protect him is loud in my head, but that's my job. I suppose there's the way my heart races when he’s near. How horrible I feel when he’s not.

The way I would take the life of every single person in this realm just to save his.

“Fuck,” I mutter, sliding down the bed to sit on the floor. When did everything get so complicated?

I need to focus. Fuck Gavriel. Caspian’s fate doesn’t change my plans to kill his father, and when the king is dead, the only threat left to the prince is me. I suck in a deep breath and center myself. Meridian first. Then the tunnels. Then the king. Then the Accord.

The rest…I’ll deal with the rest later.

Rising, I return to my packing with renewed determination. Whatever I feel or don’t feel for Caspian doesn’t matter. What matters is stopping his father before he destroys everything.

Even if that means destroying myself in the process.

I finish gathering my supplies and change into fresh clothes before ensuring every weapon is perfectly positioned and easily accessible. The familiar routine helps clear any stress lingering under my skin.

Thisis who I am. This is what I do. Everything else is just distraction.

A glance out the window shows the sun beginning to set. If we leave now, we can make it to Meridian by morning. That gives us more than enough time to be back in the castle before the king follows through with his threat.

Chapter Nineteen

Ariella

The early morning air whips around us as we ride toward Meridian after traveling through the night, my thighs aching from hours in the saddle. I’d forgotten how much I despise horses, and I’ve never even traveled on one so far before. This is just pure torture. But Caspian insisted this would be faster, and for once, I didn’t argue.

My eyes drift to a group of people on the open path we approach. There's a few walking across the bridge that passes over the river, and I immediately sense something off about them. Their movements are erratic, jerky, like puppets with tangled strings. One man stumbles past, his eyes unfocused and skin an unnatural shade of gray. He mutters to himself, words I can’t quite catch, but the cadence is wrong—too fast and desperate.

“You see that?” Caspian’s voice is low as he guides his horse closer to mine.

I nod, watching another group of travelers as I subtly tug on my psionic strand and feel around them. I wince at the wrongness of their essence. It feels empty somehow, and utterly abhorrent. But I don’t need to think very hard to know what’s going on. The consequences of the balance are getting worse.

The morning sun does nothing to warm the chill that settles in my bones. I’m unsure of why I didn’t anticipate the imbalance affecting people, too. Essence exists in the land and elements first, but eventually flows into the people who weave it. The balance must be so off in this part of the realm that it’s now spreading and attacking the essence in bodies.

Gavriel groans behind us for what must be the hundredth time. “Are we almost there? This saddle is trying to kill me.” I’m so fucking close to flinging my blade at him—aside from Isolde, I don’t believe I’ve ever despised someone so much. Especially as he still expects me to just remain in Meridian when we’re done searching around. Fucking fool.

“Since when do you complain this much? Are you not a soldier?” Caspian asks, throwing a raised brow over his shoulder.

I ignore their banter as the first hints of salty air reach my nose. Meridian is the closest city to Valoria, and after more than twelve hours of riding, I expect us to be within the city limits soon. It’s not long before the road curves, and the vast expanse of the Ebelan Ocean spreads before us, endless blue stretching to meet the horizon. My breath catches.

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